To Watch
by Paladin of Farore
Summary: "These are the shadows of what will be," said the being called the Watcher. By some strange twist of events, Director Peggy Carter finds herself wandering like a ghost through events yet to come. She sees the man she loved rise from the ashes to lead the most powerful force ever assembled, she sees herself wither with age, and she sees the ultimate fate of the worlds truest hero.


The cigarette smoke made a faint impression on the window pain, distorting the movement of the rain soaked streets below. Traffic bustled in all directions despite the late hour. No stars sparkled in the sky, though a sliver of moon peeked out from behind the storm cloud, juxtaposing bluish-black vortex with pure shimmering light.

Peggy sighed, exhaling a silky ribbon of vapor. Supposedly she'd quit years ago. Yet nights like this always left her far more jittery than she liked. Reaching back she set the cig down on the ashtray, letting the last few cinders burn away unused. Her office was dim and sullen. Oblong shadows fell across the her desk, illuminating the dozen or so file folders spread over it's surface.

Operation Paperclip, they called it.

Profiles of ex-Hydra agents compiled to the most intimate of details were collected there. History of activities, family and financial records, carefully performed psychological evaluations. Anything that she could use to have an edge on them, to keep them in check. At right at the desk's center was the profile of one Armin Zola.

Peggy had been against the operation, of course. The Commandoes, many of whom were now Shield's top field agents, had mad their rancor known throughout the organization as well.

For as much as these ex nazis had to offer in terms of science and technology, as big of assets as they could be, those who'd fought them could never forget what they'd done. Zola was the man responsible for the death of one of their own, and had helped to cause the loss of their best man.

It enraged Peggy just thinking about it. Just thinking that the slimy Swiss bastard spent his hours working in R&amp;D just five floors down made her skin crawl.

And, it made her think once again of the file folder burning a hole in her desk's bottom drawer. One containing everything about project Rebirth, and a picture of a skinny kid boy from Brooklyn.

She glanced down at the ring on her finger.

Her husband was a good man, an honorable and courageous one who'd given her his love, and a daughter she cherished more than anything. She loved him, yet there were some things you could never let go of, even when the whole world made it clear that you should move on. By all reasoning, she should be at home with them, sleeping peacefully. Reality wasn't always well attuned with reason, however.

Howard was the same. Years of his life had been spent filled with regret. Of a perceived failure that haunted every piece of his work, every action he took as director.

"_If I'd gotten there five minutes faster,"_ he'd said a thousand times, often in a drunken slur. _"I could've talked him through how to land that plane."_

Shield, in a way, was their shared way of working through grief. Where else could the name come from, other than the chosen tool of America's savior? Together they'd built something strong and had worked tirelessly for peace the world over, both from the confines of the shadows and from behind the political podium. Yet their masochism continued, and Peggy waited for him to return from the fifth ultimately fruitless expedition. Agents stationed at the docks had called to inform her of

The first had yielded nothing.

The second had yielded nothing.

The third had yielded the Tesseract, which now lay sealed in a special vault a hundred feet below where Howard and a select team of scientists would examine it.

The fourth had, again, yielded nothing.

And now the fifth would doubtlessly result in the same. Dear god, she could use another cigarette.

Yet instead of reaching for another sleek white stick, she stayed rooted to the ground by the windows. Her resolve was gathering, and if she didn't finally make a decision, she'd break. After tonight, she decided, she was done. No more pointless searches for something beyond finding.

Even were they to find it, all there'd be would be a body to put in the ground. Not the man they'd known and loved. Howard would reject this view of course. He was perhaps the most stubborn man on god's green earth. He'd keep looking, but this time, Peggy would not, could not help him.

A brisk knock came from the door.

That was odd, the docks were half an hour away. Far too soon for Howards arrival.

"Enter," she called, squaring her stance and turning.

Instead of Howard Stark, a spindly old man half bent over at the waist entered pulling a tiny wooden cart with one hand and a broom with the other.

"Pardon me, Madame Director," greeted Stanley the custodian with a toothy smile. "Just doing the rounds. Not intruding, am I?"

She couldn't help but smile back despite her dour mood. The old janitor was perhaps the only really member of the staff who was entirely trustworthy. No family to speak of, old as dust and seemingly half senile, Stanley always had a kind word to offer. Even if it didn't always make complete sense.

"No, no, go right ahead." She turned back to the window as he tottered into the room, wheels of the cart creaking as he did so.

"Long night, Director?" he asked, beginning his sweeping.

"Quite long. I'll be glad when it's over. Yourself?"

"Good, Madame Director. 'Part from the rain of course," he looked up from his work and said something very odd. "Do you know what my job is, Director?" he asked.

She gave him an odd look, but decided that like most of the staff and agents that she'd humor him. No reason not to torment a sweet old man.

"Of course I do Stanley. I'm the one who hired you, remember?"

He laughed, setting aside his broom and standing up a bit straighter than he looked capable of.

"Yep ya did. And I'm starting to enjoy it, ma'm. But I was talking about mother job. A bit more glamorous than this one, but not quite as fulfilling."

In that moment, Peggy thought she might have a heart attack, a stroke, and several rehabilitating brain mannerisms all at once.

Stanley's form started to…..shift. He wasn't changing shape, exactly. Around him formed the shimmering form a tall, bald being with a cloak of billowing purple. His skin was narly peach in color, and his eyes….oh dear God his eyes. Pools of purest white that could pierce through stone.

Peggy had her hidden gun out and aimed in a heartbeat. Stanley still smiled, holding up his hands as his astral form faded away.

"Who are you?" she demanded in a voice like steel. She'd encountered various forms of meta-humans before, there were whole units dedicated to managing that, but she'd never seen anything quite like this.

"Stanley, Madame Director. I've grown to quite like to that name. Though my given name is Uatu. I am the Watcher."

He paced a few steps completely ignoring the gun trained on him. His back was completely straight and apart from still appearing old, was far from decrepit.

"My job is a tedious one, ma'am. Far more that janitorial duties, which are actually rather enjoyable in their mundanity. See, as my title implies, I watch. I watch what was, what is, what will be, all of that. And as of now I've been given a very special opportunity. To show you the shadows of what will be. Or the future if you prefer."

Her mouth opened to refute the delusional, obviously meta-human influenced shite, but he continued on unabated.

"As we speak I'm offering the same visions to your good friend Howard. You're here waiting for him, aren't you? He didn't find him, of course. He never will."

Peggy took an offensive step forward, grip tightening on the gun enough for the trigger to click just slightly.

"Back away, now."

'Stanley' just smiled again.

"He _will _be found though. In the twilight of your lifetime, at the dawn of a Miraculous age. Admittedly, it was rather foolish of me to address you like this. It'd be far better to just show you instead."

Then, within the passing of a nanosecond, the old man was right in front of her, the astral cloaked form was fully manifested around him, and he pressed a fingertip to her forehead just above her nose. Everything vanished without preamble or ceremony. Cut to black.

**LINEBREAK**

Paranormal phenomenon, to some degree, had become more and more common place as Peggy's career progressed. First she'd been involved in the super-soldier research program, and had been part of the unit specifically designed to take down mad scientists determined to blow up the planet with a glowing blue artifact they'd found buried in the earth.

With the creation of Shield, there were minor cases of meta-humans, people who could start sparks with their minds or channel low levels of electricity through their bodies. Super scientists were further and further pushing the boundaries of nature. For example, Henry Pym as making enormous progress on some fascinating particles.

None of that could possibly have prepared her for this.

Because now, somehow, she was standing on a barren wasteland of ice and swirling white.

Snow swirled and twisted in an endless limbo that spread out in all directions. The sun was obscured and invisible high above, allowing virtually no light to escape the confines of the cloud barrier.

Observant as she was, she noticed immediately that she felt no cold on her skin, and her breath didn't hang as mist in the air.

"It's because you aren't here. Not really."

Her head spun around to see Uatu, cloak billowing by some intangible wind, standing a few feet away, eyes like beacons in the lack of light.

"Where are we, then?" she asked curtly. For now, all she could do was bite the bullet. Find a way to escape whatever fever dream she'd been ensnared in.

"Not just where, but when as well." The Watcher began walking in a certain direction, and gestured for her to follow, which she did with only a tad of reluctance.

"When?"

"Indeed. This is late Autumn of 2011, the Artic. A hundred yards ahead of us is an explorer's expedition. Take a look."

The whirling of the snow made vision more than ten feet in front of you impossible. So after thirty seconds of walking, Peggy approached a large metallic vehicle with enormous treads instead of wheels. As she moved, she took note of how despite her heeled shoes, the terrain gave zero resistence to her footsteps.

Was this some sort of psychic projection? Possible, but Shield's official stance on physics was that they didn't exist.

Whatever this was, it was incredibly convincing.

Especially considering the changed Shield insignia on one of the explorer's orange hazard vests as they walked away from their vehicle, carrying various tools. They were talking, though Peggy's ears only picked it up mid conversation. None of these men took notice of her. She was a ghost on an unseen plane.

"How come nobody's spotted it before?" one asked the other.

"It's not really that surprising. This landscape is changing all the time," the other replied, making a motion with his free arm.

"You got any idea what this thing is exactly?"

"I don't know, it probably just a weather balloon."

The conversation continued, and Peggy followed until _it _ came in to view. A gargantuan knife of obsidian protruding out of the icy landscape, a stark contrast to the black white that encompassed everything else.

It was an enormous wing-plane, one that had flown off into the skyline years ago, carrying both the most evil man who'd ever lived, and his polar opposite to their doom.

_He will be found though. In the twilight of your life._

Uatu was nowhere to be found, yet his words echoed against her eardrums.

In dead silence, she followed the men as they entered the frozen husk of steel. While they repelled down into it's central chamber, she floated down gently, taking her lack of physical substance in stride.

German design screamed from every feature of the room. Enormous rivets holding up the metal pillars in harsh angles. Control panels long since fizzled out and worthless, with a circular power hub at the center. Grey steel had been turned blue by cold and age, and everything was a sixty degree angle due to the planes position. This was the Red Skull's ultimate tool of destruction, with which he would cleanse the world with blue, luminescent fire.

"My god," the obvious leader of the bunch intoned as he approached the far end of the chamber. "May's, give me a line to the colonel."

His subordinate was taken aback.

"Sir, it's three a.m," he protested. The commander shook his head, pointing his flashlight.

"I don't care what time it is. This one's waited long enough."

Numbly, Peggy walked, invisible, and looked down at where the torch's light fell.

Beneath a sheen layer of ice was a white star wreathed in blue and red. A shield.

Her heart stopped dead in her chest, and nearly a decades worth of grief came pouring back in a single instant. A fluttering of purple signaled Uatu's reappearance at her side.

"He lives."

Her heart dropped another few inches.

"These are the shadows of what will be. Know this now, Peggy Carter. All that is shown to you here will be forgotten. Nothing will change, but still I give you this offer." He extended his hand. "Do you wish to see."

The reply came without her knowing it, slinking out of her lips like a prayer.

"Yes."

Her hand found his, and the world changed again.


End file.
